


You Even Set My World Into Motion

by jowritesfiction



Series: Black & Gold: SQ in an eletator [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-21
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-25 04:38:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3796972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jowritesfiction/pseuds/jowritesfiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma Swan and Regina Mills are stuck in an elevator and Emma decides to distract Regina out of a panic attack – take one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Even Set My World Into Motion

“Miss Swan.” She practically sneers at you.

You offer a lame little nod as you enter the elevator, not wanting to be the target of her ridicule. After all your day hasn’t been that great what with the loads of paperwork since Kathryn’s reappearance. Of course you’re relieved to see her back and almost unscathed, but its brought up a lot of questions that you’re not sure if you’re ready to hear the answers. Plus with your notepad clutched tightly between your fingers, you know that it’s time to ask those difficult questions and that alone is enough to put a damper on the day’s events.

“Madam Mayor.” You reply curtly, pressing the button for the third floor, while you see the one for the fourth floor has already been pressed.

The doors close abruptly, as the elevator begins to move upwards. You pass the second floor when suddenly the elevator stops, as the lights begin to flicker above your heads. With a groan you check the buttons, trying to look for something that can get you out of this situation because right now you don’t want to be stuck in an elevator with a woman you can’t stand on a good day.

“For fuck sakes.” You spit out, pressing the emergency button to sound an alarm that you can’t hear, but silently pray will reach the ears of someone that can help.

Your hands glide through your hair then, trying to figure out a way out of this. You don’t like elevators as much as the next person, but you know that panicking won’t help the situation. And so you purse your lips, grabbing your cell phone to check for any kind of reception. A quick glance at your phone proves that cell reception in Storybrooke, Maine is awful on a good day and non-existent in an elevator.

It’s then that you notice the mayor has shrunk down to the floor, her hands shaking violently as her breathing increases, as she shuts her eyes tightly.

She’s having some kind of panic attack, and you only know that because one of the kids in the foster homes had them all the time and it was usually your job to calm the girl down. Back then it had been easy to stick headphones on her or give her a toy, but something told you that neither method were going to work for the mayor of your town. You were going to need a whole different method of distraction when you bent down beside her, with your hand under her chin to get her to look at you.

You don’t know why you do it, but your hand is on her cheek, trying to reassure her as best you can. But then her breathing is heavy and her chest is moving at a rapid pace and suddenly your lips are pressed against hers in an agonizingly slow kiss. She responds almost immediately, her shaking hands thread into your curls, and then you’re practically straddling her on the floor of the elevator when she tugs you closer.

“What the hell are you doing?” She asks between kisses, her other hand digging into your hip.

“I just… I wanted to calm you down.” You respond, hating yourself for the way your voice hitches as you answer her.

“So you stuck your tongue down my throat?” She practically barks at you, as her lips continue to meet yours in dangerously delightful kisses.

“I didn’t hear you complaining.” You mock back at her, this time sliding one hand underneath her blouse to tease her hot skin beneath your fingers. Her mouth is warm and inviting as your tongue slides against the seam of her mouth, before her lips part and you take her lower lip between your teeth for a quick nip. She’s essentially panting at this point, and you can’t help the cocky grin as you pull away from her, peppering steamy kisses against the column of her neck.

“Miss Swan, I don’t think this is appropriate.”

“Then stop kissing me.” You challenge her with a chaste kiss and pulling away just far enough that your lips aren’t touching.

It’s agonizing staring at her then, waiting for her body to give her away. You want to give in, but instead hold your ground and simply remind yourself to inhale when her eyes flutter closed and she leans in. Then suddenly her lips are on yours and her hands are digging into your hips, pulling you unbearably closer to her. And it’s the hottest fucking kiss you’ve ever had, as a groan escapes someone’s lips, but you aren’t sure whose when you feel her fingers against your hipbones and the urgency in the way her lips glide against yours.

“I still hate you.” She snaps, this time using her mouth to travel down your neck in sharp, biting kisses. 

“I still hate you too.” You repeat back to her, just as you feel a hand snaking its way underneath the sides of your jeans and pulling you closer.

“Fuck… just… fuck.” She pants, as she nips a trail down your collar bone to the top of your breasts, as her tongue licks your salty skin. 

You know it should feel wrong to have the woman you hate underneath you, but it doesn’t. Or at least the sense of wrong is far overpowered by the lust you feel between your legs when she glares at you with her hungry half-lidded eyes and sharp teeth. It’s with a frustrated sigh that you push your chest out, giving her better access to swipe her tongue across the sides of your cotton-clad breasts.

“I know.” You respond, your body practically grinding into hers as you pull her away from your chest and back against your lips in a feverish kiss. Your one hand continues to tease against her soft skin, while the other is on her chest, as you palm her breast through her flimsy satin blouse and her even flimsier lace bra. You can feel her nipple pebble beneath your fingers as a gasp escapes from somewhere in the back of her throat and you claim another angry kiss.

“Did you learn these skills when you were behind bars?” She says and you know was meant to tease, but it leaves her lips in a terribly wanton way.

“You seem to like my skills, Madam Mayor.” You respond, a smug smile on your lips as she pants beneath your fingertips. Your one hand slides away from her skin then, instead settling on her now bare thigh, as her pencil skirt continues to bunch around her waist. Your fingers skim against her skin then, sliding farther until your fingers find her lacy underwear. “You’re so wet for me.” You taunt against her ear, as your fingers tease at her opening.

“Fuck you.” She snaps, this time taking a bite from your shoulder.

“No. …I’m fucking you.” You reply with a cocky little chuckle as she seems to lose her nerve and any kind of control when your fingers delve into her without a warning. You curl your fingers then, enjoying the immediate reaction from her parted lips and breathy moan. The pace is unsteady as you grind your thumb against her clit, pushing farther into her with each thrust.

“You’re not to breathe a word of this… to…ah… anyone.” She manages, her breath hot against your cheek, as she meets every single god damn stroke with her hips.

“Whatever you say, Madam Mayor.” You reply before snatching another kiss from her bruised lips as you feel her begin to tighten around your fingers.


End file.
